Offscreen
by I-Love-John-Cena
Summary: John and Torrie grow closer without knowing it as Jackie and Charlie grow apart. Mischievious Carlito has something up his sleeve as tension builds backstage on Smackdown as roster cuts are due. No one is safe. Includes most of the WWE roster.
1. Summary

**A/N**: My exams are OVER! It's about time too… so I'm back to writing and I have brought you a new story. Enjoy!

* * *

**Summary**

What happens off screen on Smackdown may be more interesting that what actually goes on onscreen.

Torrie Wilson and John Cena commit infidelity after Billy Kidman is out with a hip injury, whilst Dawn Marie is pregnant but refuses to tell who the father is, leading Miss Jackie to believe that the baby may be Charlie's.

Eddie and Rey fall out after their personal storyline affects them backstage and some Smackdown underdogs head over to RAW and cause riots to make themselves a name.

* * *


	2. Good luck kisses and mixed emotions

**OFFSCREEN  
**

**_Dedicated to...  
_**_Everyone_ who has read and/or reviewed my fics - I really appreciate it!  
And especially to my best friend _Katelyn  
_**Thank you!**  
_Zoe xox  
_

**

* * *

**

**Chapter One**

Strolling down the hall way, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his denim shorts, John Cena breezed by with his WWE Championship hanging triumphantly over his right shoulder.

His fancy new title caught the attention of many and heads turned everywhere he went. Pleased with himself and his new 'toy', he smirked cockily. This was not his usual nature but things had changed ever since he won the title at Wrestlemania. He may have been scheduled to win but he preferred to believe as if he worked for it, as he did… partially…

After all, he did fight for it…the blood, sweat and the tears… Not so much of the tears but he had spilt his fair share of blood in some of his grueling matches, especially during his 'I Quit' match on Judgment Day the other night. The plasters and stitches covering up his fresh wounds decorated his handsome, chiseled face explained it all…in fact, he was still feeling a little lightheaded due to the heavy blood loss.

"Wow, look what we have here!" chuckled a voice. He recognised it distinctly and spun around into that direction.

"Yo Peter," he greeted with a firm handshake. Peter Gruner, also known as Billy Kidman and by his side was his wife, none other than the dazzling Torrie Wilson.

"Yo man, whassup?" Cena greeted casually, adjusting the belt on his shoulder.

"Nice bit of 'bling' you got there Cena…" he teased.

"Well you've got your girl…" he chuckled as he winked at Torrie. Torrie shook her head and stuck her tongue out playfully at Cena. They were constantly teasing each other, backstage, on the coaches, in the car, on the plane during long distance flights to keep each other entertained… everywhere, you name it.

"Well I have to go for my match…" said Peter excitedly, putting on his elbow pad.

"Good luck," she wished him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Peter raised his eyebrows surprised.

"I'll see you later," smiled Peter to the both of them

"Bye!" they both said in unison was they watched him dawdle off.

"Hey Torrie, I've got a match later on, where's my good luck kiss?" asked John cheekily as he inched closer to her.

"What makes you think you're so special?" she asked, walking up to him.

"Well, my little friend over here…" he replied boastfully as he span the spinner on his title. She scoffed.

"Kiss my ass…" she laughed as she turned away with a smirk.

"Believe me, I would love to!" John answered with a dirty grin planted across his face.

"I don't even want to know what's going on in that head of yours…" she chuckled as she walked off.

"Why not? It involves you and some hot action!" he yelled. Without turning back, she held her hand in the air and stuck her finger out at him. He laughed it off before finally heading to his locker room.

* * *

"Positive…" Dawn whispered staring at the life-changing stick. The first question that came to her mind was how could she was going to tell him? 

She knew almost instantly who the father was, and was totally unprepared to tell him and didn't know how to either. No way was it Simon's, they had broken up a long time ago… Wiping her tears of confusion and joy away, she picked up the receiver and dialled Jackie's number, the first person who popped up into her mind.

"Hello?"

"Jackie? Hi, umm, I can't go to tapings tonight…"

"What Dawn? Why not?"

"I can't tell you…"

"Of course you can hun, tell me!"

"…" Dawn was speechless and unsure of whether it was a good idea, the word might spread like wildfire as did the whole Lita and Edge affair, so in the meantime she wanted to keep it under wraps.

"Dawn? You're scaring me… is everything ok?" asked Jackie.

"Look, I don't want this to spread but… I'm pregnant…" she said quickly, slamming down the phone. Jackie sat in the women's locker room taken aback and in total shock.

"Oh my God…" Jackie muttered faintly, with mixed emotions and questions flooding into her head. The door swung open and in came Torrie with a grin.

"Hey Jackie…" she greeted happily, placing her bag next to the dresser. She noticed Jackie's blankness and questioned why her mouth was hanging open. "Are you ok?"

"…Dawn's pregnant…" Jackie muttered unintentionally… not knowing that Torrie had impeccable hearing with ears designed for eavesdropping on gossip.

"WHAT! SHE IS!" shrieked Torrie in utter thrill. "I can't believe it! That's amazing!"

"Yeah…" Jackie said emptily. "I have to tell the writers…"

"Yeah, I guess our bikini contest is cancelled…" shrugged Torrie with an even bigger grin on her face. "I hate those things anyway…"

"Yeah…"

"See you then…"

"See you," replied Jackie as she opened the door. "Don't tell anyone ok?"

"Got it…" Torrie nodded as she watched Jackie leave and couldn't help but wonder why she was so eerily silent...

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**A/N**: Well, it's been a while since I've been writing, I'm curious as to what you think of this new story... **Please review!**


	3. Secrets

**Chapter Two**

Charlie Haas approached the locker room of Kurt Angle. It was his first match against Kurt Angle, and Kurt being his former mentor, not only onscreen, but off screen as well, he wanted to thank Kurt for his guidance and wish him well for his match, like a real sportsman. He heard Kurt yelling loudly over the phone, loud enough to pass through the walls of the arena. Taking a step back, unsure of whether to enter, the shouting stopped and Kurt opened the door about to leave.

"Haas!" said Kurt surprised that he was waiting outside. "Did you hear that?"

"Kind of…" Charlie replied slightly frightened.

"It's not what you think…"

"Uhh… what?"

"I mean… It's not that I'm afraid of committing you know… I'm just not ready for another… you get me?" asked Kurt as he scratched the back of his neck uneasily.

"Sure," Charlie nodded, not having a clue what Kurt was rambling on about.

"I hope you don't tell anyone…"

"I won't, I won't!"

"You're a good man Haas…" nodded Kurt with a strong slap to Charlie's back which startled him.

"Actually I was going to call you for our match which is up after Kidman and London…" said Charlie, changing topic.

"Oh… our match… oh of course!" chuckled Kurt. "I almost forgot…"

Charlie looked at Kurt worriedly, over the past week he had looked tense and preoccupied with thoughts and distracted.

"Are you ok?"

"Yes…" Kurt lied.

"Really?" asked Charlie, able to see through Kurt.

"No…" he sighed.

"As a friend and a student of yours, allow me to help you out, for once… it's the least I could do," offered Charlie in a gentlemanly manner.

"It's too complicated…"

"It's better to talk about it… Jackie makes me talk about my problems… it's a girl thing – but it works!"

"Jackie's a great gal… hold on to her…" Kurt advised.

"I know that," Charlie nodded. "Problems with the wife?"

"Much more complicated…" he said shaking his head as he rubbed his tense face.

"Oh really?" asked Charlie curiously.

"Well… you could call it a Lita and Edge number two…"

"W-w-what!" Charlie stuttered in astonishment, immediately knowing what he was talking about. "You mean with-"

"DON'T! Don't say it!"

"Oh my God!" shrieked Charlie with his hand slapping his head.

"Yeah ok! You don't have to overreact!"

"I'm sorry…" Charlie apologised, calming down.

"Please… you have to keep it a secret…" Kurt begged.

"Of course, of course…" Charlie nodded.

"Thanks man…" said Kurt in appreciation with a slap to Charlie's arm.

"Don't mention it… pal…" Charlie smirked as the two of them headed for their match.

* * *

"What happened!" asked John frantically, as he followed a crowd of people to the exit of the arena. Chavo Guerrero, Mark Jindrak and Booker T were amongst the few that crowded around but only Paul London bothered to answer John. 

"H-h-he hit the Shooting Star… b-but he slipped off the turnbuckle and fell smack onto his back…" answered London edgily. The horde of people rushed after the paramedics and Peter who was laying on the stretcher screaming in excruciating pain.

"PETER!" Torrie screeched, bawling her eyes out as she ran towards the stretcher and held his hand. It was about time she arrived. She pushed through the others and reached Peter before they carried him into the ambulance.

"Torrie…" Peter grunted in agony, clutching his side. Torrie threw herself onto Peter.

"Ma'am please, step aside," demanded one of the paramedics firmly, brushing her off of Peter.

"NO! PLEASE! LET ME COME!" she begged hysterically, grabbing tightly onto Peter's hand.

"Ma'am, please…" said another paramedic, pushing her back. John speedily held her back despite her fighting back and she didn't give up easily. She stomped and kicked John several times which was far from pleasant to his shins and delicate toes. She eventually let go of Peter's hand, panting heavily, her maroon coloured face, showed exhaustion as her eyes showed distress and disappointment as watched the ambulance doors shut and speed off.

"No…" she sobbed helplessly, kneeling onto the floor. John's stomach twisted uncomfortably as he saw her in such a depressing state.

"Come on," John whispered comfortingly as he helped her up slowly and gently. She looked up at him with her teary green eyes and fell into his arms, clutching him as she continued to cry.

* * *

An exhausted Charlie Haas returned from his match, drenched in sweat from head to toe, matches with veterans like Kurt Angle always brought of the most in him. Charlie wiped his face with a towel that Jackie lovingly slipped into his backpack without him knowing… in fact it smelt of her… it was the sweetest scent ever.. 

"What are you doing?" asked Jackie as she watched Charlie sniff the towel with such infatuation in the middle of the hallway. Charlie froze and hid the towel behind him and stood upright.

"Nothing…" he lied.

"You are so weird…." she chuckled pulling him into a hug.

"I'm sweaty…" he warned her.

"I don't care…" she sighed, tightening her grip. Automatically, Charlie detected that something was wrong due to her negative tone.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing…" she said shaking her head and pulling apart, tucking the strands of hair that fell across her face behind her ear.

"Are you sure that nothing is wrong, or is that a girl's code for saying 'Yes something is wrong, except I don't want you to know but I'm a girl and I have to talk about it…'?"

"You know me so well!" she squealed as her frown turned into a glittery grin.

"Tell me about it…"

"Well… our bikini match was cancelled-"

"Our bikini match? I wasn't scheduled for a bikini match…" Charlie joked. Jackie simply glared at him with her arms folded in an annoyed manner. "Not time to make jokes? Ok… sorry…"

"Well it's cos Dawn Marie isn't here…"

"Oh…?" Charlie responded, pretending to act surprise and his goofy grin faded instantly at the sound of her name.

"Yeah… it's cos she's pregnant…" Jackie whispered.

"Really?" Charlie shrieked, acting goofily… he was never a good actor.

"Why are you being weird again?"

"I'm not w-weird…" he stammered. "That's totally weird! How do you know?"

"She told me…"

"Did she tell you who the father was?" asked Charlie nervously as he bit his fingernails.

"No… why do you care so much?"

"I … like… gossip!" Charlie lied once again, making excuses along the way.

"You're worse than us girls!"

"Us? I'm not a girl…" he joked, trying to released the tension from the situation, but just made matters worse.

"Are you sure?" she scoffed as she walked off, upset by him. Charlie watched her dart to the women's locker room, wondering what he said that was so wrong.

* * *

John made it an effort to stall, but he was just around the corner from her now. They were in the hospital, John had driven her there. The incident was over two hours ago but she was still weeping. Her eyes had gone puffy and her hair a mess, he couldn't stand to see her. 

He went to get coffee for the both of them across the street, promising he'd return in no time. But by the time he returned the coffee has been chilled as it was ice cold outside. He bravely peeped round the corner only to find that she was gone.

"What…" John said to himself looking around. The seats were empty, there was barely anyone in the vestibule. He quickly chucked the coffees into the rubbish before attempting to find her. As he passed the ladies room, he heard a loud sniff.

"Torrie?" he asked, knocking gently on the door. The sniffing sounds grew louder causing him to cringe. Being the nice guy that he was, he attempted to enter the women's washroom to comfort her. He twisted at the knob and slowly pushed the door open.

"John what are you doing?" asked a voice behind him. He quickly turned around only to find Torrie standing there. He turned back around to see who was in the toilet, a women in her forties with a disgusting flu stood there shocked at John's actions.

"Sorry!" John apologised as he quickly shut the door.

"How dare y-" John heard the woman yell from inside before sneezing.

"There you are!" he chuckled as he saw Torrie. She was still red-eyed but at least she was crying like she was before.

"Sorry…" she apologised.

"Don't worry about it…Where were you?"

"I went to see Peter," she replied with a faint smile.

"How was he?" asked John concerned speaking in a softer, more sympathetic tone.

"He'll have to stay here for a while… he fractured his hip bone…" Torrie explained, John noticed tears forming by her eyes.

"Ouch…" John winced.

"Well he doesn't seem to be in pain, they've injected morphine in him and keep forcing painkillers down his throat…" shrugged Torrie, brushing the little droplets of tears that trickled down.

"Poor guy…" John sighed sympathetically, avoiding eye contact. He hated when girls cried in front of him, he always felt uncomfortable and was the worst at consoling people... maybe it was a guy thing... Everything he would say would make matters worse...

"Well, we have to go back to the arena to pick up our stuff now…" Torrie said quickly, changing the subject.

"Yeah…" nodded John, she walked off with her head hung low. He followed closely behind her. She seemed emotionally unstable at the moment and John couldn't help but feel somewhat envious of Kidman. Not because he's out with a hip injury but because he had a beautiful wife who genuinely cared for him and John wanted that, and whatever John wants… John gets…

* * *

**A/N**: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! What did yo guys think of this chapter? I personally find Charlie's personality to be amusing hugs him Please review! 


	4. Good shit

**A/N: **Yikes! I had to re-write this chapter three times until I thought it was perfect... so I hope it's good! Gonna go party, it's my brother's birthday... woot! Oh and excuse the name ofthis chapter...

**

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****Chapter Three**

The journey in John's rented Cadillac Escalade was peaceful. Torrie had fallen asleep ten minutes after they had left the hospital, John drove all the way to the arena and found out that the doors had been locked and called Charlie to learn that they had both his and Torrie's belongings.

She looked so angelic. The top of her head rested lightly against the window as her hands were grabbing hold of the navy blue sweater John had lent her. That was the least he could do, after all she was still in her skimpy wrestling attire…

John couldn't help but watch her sleep soundly every time he had the chance to. He found it cute how she had hid her face with his Boston Red Sox cap, shy of showing her face and how she slept with a wide smile that stretched from ear to ear…

"I wonder what she's dreaming about…" John muttered under his breath with a cheeky smirk.

It was somewhat boring when she was asleep, not that they had spoken a lot today. In fact, today was the only day where they had barely anything to say to each other and it was also the only day they didn't tease each other… This didn't feel right…

Thinking back, about the incident at the arena, when Torrie had run after the ambulance, John couldn't help but feel goose bumps wash over his body at the uncomfortable sight of Torrie bawling her eyes out like that, jealousy also swam through his veins...

He was envious of Peter and there was no doubt about it. John had always really wanted a loyal, loving and caring girlfriend – just like Torrie. He wanted someone he could have a laugh with and always feel comfortable around – someone like Torrie. He wanted someone he could spoil and pamper and someone who would do the same for him, someone who could take care of him and be there for him no matter what. The only person he could envisage himself with for the rest of his life and the only person fit for this role was… the one and only … Torrie Wilson.

* * *

"Of _all_ people, I have to share this room with you…" groaned and aggravated Carlito, taking a bite out of his apple. 

"As if I even want to share this room with you…" Mark Jindrak taunted back as he struggled to rollover in his single-sized bed and turn his back rudely to Carlito.

"Don't make me spit my apple at you…" Carlito threatened as he stood by Mark's bed and towered over him.

"Don't make me shove that damn apple down your throat _as well_ as your sad-ass gimmick!" Mark twisted his neck around to warn him.

"Man you're just jealous…" Carlito shrugged as he went back to his bed and sat on the edge of it, staring at the TV, trying to hide the fact that he was somewhat afraid of Mark, after all, Mark was a whole lot taller then Carlito and his biceps were the size of Carlito's head – including his fuzzy afro…

"Jealous of what?" Mark asked in disbelief as he arched his eyebrows.

"Man you know I'm cooler than you…"

"Whatever…"

"I am…"

"No you're not…"

"But I am…"

"No, you are _not_…"

"I am!"

"Not!"

"I am!"

"Not!"

"I am!"

"Not!"

"I AM!" screamed Carlito as he took a daring step towards Mark.

"YOU ARE NOT!" Mark yelled back as he leapt out of his bed and glared at Carlito dead in the eye.

The room was exceedingly silent but tension was present. The two men were fed up of each other's impolite, not to mention childish, comments. Realistically, the two were just fed up of being abused by Smackdown writers. The backstage morale had been like this ever since people were comparing their show to RAW and how RAW was the 'A' show and Smackdown was the 'B' show…

Ever since Mark moved from RAW in the 2004 lottery draft, he hadn't been in a decent storyline, not that he did on RAW… but he was getting fed up of it and found himself regularly in a bad mood and constantly frustrated at every little thing and in this instance, Carlito was on his nerves.

Carlito was one of the top heels and yet everybody loved him and he loved the attention, they loved him more than some of the babyfaces on Smackdown. Something happened one day and they lost interest in him… they invented the Carlito Cabana which was a sad, pathetic version of Chris Jericho's Highlight Reel… plus Carlito hardly did anything except invite others to his show and watch his guests beat the crap out of each other…

"I'm sorry man…" Carlito sighed before apologising, he sat down on the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands.

"Me too…" Mark said shaking his head as he soon calmed down. The two of them realised what was happening to them. They were on the same level and a lot of guys felt this way, except they didn't dare to say anything…

"When was the last time you were on TV?" asked Carlito casually, taking another bite of his apple as he lay on the bed and gazed at the ceiling.

"Can't remember," shrugged Mark as he climbed into tiny bed.

"I don't get it, why do we have to share rooms? Even people like Simon Dean on RAW gets his own suite… I don't get it man…" Carlito sighed.

"I never had this kind of problem when I was on RAW…" Mark explained. "I kinda wish I was back on there-"

"NO!" Carlito spat, interrupting him as he sprang to his feet. "Man, stay true to your brand! RAW basically abandoned you…"

"No, they just put me here so I'd be used…" Mark argued, not believing what he was saying himself…

"Well you haven't been used in a reasonable storyline since… forever!" Carlito chuckled as Mark frowned at his comment.

"Yeah I have…" Mark lied.

"Forget it, I won't even embarrass you by asking you to name one…" Carlito smirked acting as if he was doing Mark a favour, which he sort of was. "The problem is, that the Smackdown writers suck… the RAW writers are just better… As if the wrestlers there are any good! I'd say the best wrestler on RAW is Chris Benoit and he was from Smackdown originally… other than that Victoria is the best…"

"Victoria?"

"Yeah…" chuckled Carlito. "We're no different to those guys in RAW, they're just over pampered and overrated! We kick it old school style, we don't need nothing fancy, we stay humble… and… cool!"

"You talk a lot of shit…" Mark chuckled.

"It's good shit though," Carlito added. "I mean… we're just as good as any of the RAW superstars! Like you for instance… you're just as good as your buddy Randy Orton, if not better looking I might add…"

"Why thank you," Mark blushed coyly… not sure if that was something he'd like to hear from another guy…

"I'm just sick of how the Smackdown writers don't even try to come up with better storylines… Vinnie Mac loves RAW, but we'll make him love Smackdown…" Carlito grinned sinisterly, Mark looked frightened at Carlito's devilish smile. Obviously Carlito was up to no good and he was keen on finding out what diabolical plan in store for Smackdown…

* * *

How embarrassing could this be? How bad could this look? Very, was the answer. John was forced to carry Torrie into the hotel lobby and what a sight it was. He was too frightened to wake her up that he… carried her into the hotel! 

John kept his head hung low in embarrassment, wearing his cap equally as low… luckily he had taken it off Torrie… He could have died if he was seen like this…

"Hey John! What the heck are you doing with Torrie Wilson!" teased Randy Orton as he lounged with the hotshots Paul Levesque, better know was Triple H, and the legendary Ric Flair. The other two men laughed as they heckled at John. He ignored them, but felt his pulse race and his cheeks warm up as he quickened his pace into the elevator.

The only way for John save face now was the rush into the nearest elevator, the only elevator that was on their floor was one that was occupied by a young couple who just stared at John and did not even have the courtesy to hold the doors open. John bravely stuck his foot, holding open the gap through the doors.

"Ouch!" he winced in pain. The doors immediately opened as he rushed inside, accidentally knocking Torrie's head on the side on their way in.

"Huh?" Torrie mumbled dazed as she clutched at the throbbing head.

"I'm sorry!" John apologised. The couple beside him giggled at his daftness, he shot them an ice-cold glare which shut them up instantly.

"Where am I John?" she asked him groggily.

"We're at the hotel, go back to sleep…" he hushed.

"Ok," she nodded as she dozed off in his arms. Finally the doors opened to the 8th floor and John sped out, this time being careful not to injure Torrie…

He headed for his room, Room 808, which was luckily nearby… He rummaged through his right pocket for his key card, whilst trying to carry Torrie single-handedly with the other hand. It was impossible to find, so he put her down and leaned her against the doorframe as he quickly search through his pockets, Torrie was about to get her face smashed flat into the ground but luckily, John caught her before she could. She woke, finding herself in compromising situation with John Cena. He had pinned her against the door, their faces millimetres apart, their bodies pressed firmly against each other's as they looked into each other's eyes unaware of this. Torrie broke their eye contact as she fell asleep, her head falling and resting on his right shoulder. He inserted the card in the slot and removed it whilst he opened the door and carried Torrie in, her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms clung tightly around his neck. Luckily he had the privilege of staying in the suite, unlike the less fortunate superstars who had the normal rooms and worse, rooms they had to pay for themselves.

He carefully removed Torrie from him. She stuck to him like glue and almost had to rip her off of him, laying her gently on the bed and tucking her in.

"I have to change…" she muttered, her eyes still shut as she attempted to remove her top. John's eye widened. His devilish self would've turned some music on and thrown jell-o at her whilst watching her strip… but John being angelic – most of the time – listened to his conscience and prevented her from doing so.

"No, just go to sleep," he hushed her as he gently moved her hands away and wrapped his jumper around her and carefully lay the duvet over her.

"Thank you…" she said softly.

"You're most welcome," he answered, not sure if there was much use, after all she was asleep…

"I love you…" she said. He froze. His jaw dropped in amazement as his heart skipped a beat or two. Did he just hear that correctly?

"What?" he asked her, hoping for her to repeat.

"I love you Peter…" she exhaled as she twisted around in the bed. It was like a stab to the chest with a sharp knife that someone just kept twisting and digging deeper. It was unbearably painful.

"I love you too…" he said subconsciously. The strange thing was… it felt right to say it…

Heading for the settee he removed his shirt replacing it with a vest as he kicked his sneakers to a side. He lay on the couch, totally knackered, wondering why it had hurt to bad. It was not like he was rejected, but yet it felt like he had been. He wasn't expecting her to say anything like that at all, and she had no reason whatsoever to, but it was such a shocker… he just wished that she didn't mention Peter and that she directed those three words to him…

* * *

**A/N: **What did you all think? Please review! I know there was a lot of John/Torrie... but that's cos I love them to bits and can never stop writing about them... less of that pairing in the next chapter - promise xP ! 

You may not know this, but I'm a BIG Smackdown fan, I just like it SO much more than RAW - I get a very negative vibe when watching RAW, but SD makes me happy, it's moreenjoyable in my **opinion**...So this fic will be pretty much anti-RAW...  
**Don't take it personally**!I just dislike the brand inequalities and how RAW is said to be better than Smackdown - that's just not right... shouldn't they be even? I'm all about equality and crap like that so yeah...

Oh and anyone who hates Carlito... I'll make you _**love**_ him! I used to dislike him... but now I've realised how COOL he actually is... LOL!


	5. Where The Hell Am I?

_Dedicated to **everyone**,  
especially** Katelyn**...  
Thanks for being ever so patient  
Zoe xoxoxoxoxoxoxox_

* * *

**Fact:  
**Question: Which Smackdown diva do you get along with best backstage?  
Mark Jindrak**: Torrie. She has a good personality...**

**-- F.A.Q **January 17th, 2005

* * *

**Chapter Four**

It was exactly 6 am, the usual time the wrestlers had to get up to pack and leave to the next event, but she hadn't slept at all.

Dawn Marie lay on her bed in the hotel room and as exhausted as she was, she remained wide-awake, her red eyes grew heavier and threatened to seal shut, but she held them open. Her mind was plagued with thoughts. She bit he tips of her fingernails nervously, her French manicure was a disaster, she had to get them done, but she had no time for anything anymore.

_What if he rejects me and leaves me all alone to raise the baby? What will I do then? How will I afford all these expenses if I'm not working? What if Vince finds out that I'm pregnant and fires me? _she asked herself anxiously.

_Should I even have this baby? _she questioned as she ran her hand over her lower abdomen.

"How can I even _think _that?" Dawn gasped. No way was she going to abandon her child… that would _never _be an option, not even as a last resort! Dawn was very independent and she would always find a way to pull through of any situation and she was definitely tougher than most people thought she was. She was just in a state of confusion at the moment, a good night's rest would be perfect for her right now, but she couldn't put herself to sleep.

She kept reminding herself that she'd need to take care of the body from now on, she had to start eating properly and rest well, although she hadn't really started to follow those instructions yet. It could be negative, she reminded herself, but she wanted the baby, everything just came at the wrong time. She was mentally prepared for morning sickness, stretch marks and all that jazz, she was just too frightened to tell the father of her baby…

"It'll be ok…" she whispered to herself. To help her sleep she though of him and how happy he had made her and how lucky she was to have him , that's why she was so worried to lose him. Changing topics, she thought of her friends Jackie and Torrie and how supportive they'd be. She was already thinking of a wedding and who to name the maid of honour although it would be a tough decision, Jackie probably, although Torrie would get to be the godmother of the child. Names were already flying around in her head, she cancelled them down to her three favourite boy and girl names. What is she had twins? Fraternal twins – a girl and a boy, but she had always wanted two boys and girl, although she didn't mind two girls and a boy, having two boys and two girls was fine by her too…

Dawn sighed with relief as only good thoughts occupied her shattered mind. Her eyelids had eventually sealed together plunging her into a deep, peaceful sleep…

* * *

Mark Jindrak waited patiently for his best friend Randy Orton to arrive. The cafeteria in the hotel was busy at this hour, that was because all the wrestlers were getting ready to leave and wanted a decent meal before hitting the road… otherwise it was McDonalds – again. 

Randy stood by the entrance all dressed up, Randy scanned around the busy cafeteria in search for his old buddy Mark, who raised his hand, waving at Randy. Randy smirked. Wait a second… where was his girl? Trish?

Randy and Trish got along well, which Mark could not understand, seeing as Randy's 'relationships' were usually one night stands. Maybe this was the turning point for Randy, maybe he was finally going to grow up and be in an actual relationship.

"Well look at you…" Mark smirked eyeing Randy in his suit as per usual.

"Hey man," greeted Randy with a nod as he sat in the seat opposite Mark.

"Where's Trish? And why are you wearing a suit?" asked Mark curiously.

"Oh she's at the pool and this is just how I normally dress…" he answered with a chuckle.

"Not bad at all…"

"Why isn't she here?"

"We arrived just this morning, so she's kind of tired. I came down just to see you off buddy…"

"I feel so special now," Mark chuckled sarcastically.

"How about you? Interested in anyone?" Randy asked pryingly.

"Nah…" replied Mark shaking his head. "Not interested…"

"C'mon man... what happened to your little crush on Torrie Wilson?" teased Randy.

"Shut up man, that was nothing…"

"She's hot man…" nodded Randy approval.

"She's married… ok?" Mark said firmly.

"Doesn't stop her from being hot…" Randy shrugged. The waiter returned with Randy's tea. "Which reminds me… I saw Torrie yesterday…"

"…Where?" asked Mark curiously although he looked to his right and tried to put on a face to show that he wasn't interested.

"She was…" chuckled Randy.

"What? What's so funny?" asked Mark curiously, shifting in seat, slightly uncomfortable.

"She was with Cena…" he laughed again. Mark stared blankly at Randy.

"With Cena?" he said expressionlessly.

"Yes she was, in fact, he's meant to be here… Let me call him…" Randy said pulling his flashy cell phone out and punching at the numbers. Mark rolled his eyes. How come Randy got all the fancy accessories? Why was he so 'blinged up'? It was hardly fair. He wasn't champ any longer, but yet he lived the life the WWE champions did. Maybe this was the RAW way of living… John didn't flash half as much as the others did, nor did he have limos chauffeur him to and fro and it's not just John. Eddie was just as humble… JBL was an exception, but he was always an asshole anyway…"Ring!"

Her head was pounding as she ran a hand through her thick blonde hair and discovered a slight bump. That's new. The high-pitched ringing of the telephone, blaring into her ear was not helpful to say the least. She forced her tired eyelids open as she stuck her hand out to the receiver to answer the phone.

"Hello…" she said groggily, her voice croaky and low.

"Uh…" Randy was taken aback by the hideous sound that was on the other end of the phone. "John do you have a soar throat?"

"Wrong number…" she answered with a yawn, slamming the receiver down and burying her face in the pillow.

"That was weird…" Randy frowned with a baffled look on his face. "I'll try again…"

"_Ring!"_

"What?" Torrie moaned as she reached her hand out to grab the phone. "Hello…"

"John?"

"Wrong number…" she sighed before slamming it down again. She lay in her bed, now awake … well more awake than she was before.

Laying in bed and thinking about the call, the person's voice was strangely familiar and why was he looking for John? Did she even _know_ a John? Oh yeah – John Cena. _Why on earth would he be here?_ _Why on earth wasn't Billy here? Oh yeah, he's injured… _

Fully awake now and totally suspicious of her surroundings, Torrie sat up and examined the room closely. She didn't recognise the strange stripy khaki-green wallpaper and the odd furniture, there was a rosewood dressed by the balcony and an inbuilt wardrobe on the far left of the room.

"Where the heck am I?"

* * *

Charlie sloshed down his breakfast in no time, getting weird looks from Carlito and Heidenrich who were sitting in the table next to he and Jackie. She simply played with her food, prodding her eggs with her fork and then going on to add sugar in her coffee and stirring it continuously. 

"Aren' you gon- eat tha-?" Charlie asked with food stuffed in his mouth, she could barely hear him. _Why was she with him again?_

"Can you believe Dawn is pregnant?" Jackie smiled. Charlie choked. "Oh my gosh! Are you ok!"

"Fine…" he lied as jumped out of his seat as he attempted to do the Heimlich manoeuvre on himself by forcing quick upwards thrusts to his upper abdomen. _Why did she have to bring that up?_ _Especially_ when he was eating…

"Charlie man… are you ok?" Carlito asked worriedly. Charlie coughed clearing his throat. He took a deep breath, allowing the air to pour into his lungs and gave Carlito a slight nod. Charlie calmed himself down, his face was beet red as he reached for a glass of water and sipped it slowly. What an experience.

"I'm fine…" he answered as he calmly sat down, still a little pink.

"Honey are you ok?" asked Jackie worriedly, placing her hands on his cheeks.

"Yes, don't worry…" he nodded. Jackie was always so caring and compassionate.

"As I was saying – Dawn Marie. I wonder whether I'd ever have a kid…" Jackie sighed. Charlie's face fell at the sound of the name 'Dawn'. _Why couldn't he have just passed out from choking instead of having to go through this?_

"Honey you will get that, trust me… and a whole lot more," he comforted her, putting his arm around her and drawing her closer.

"But when?"

"When the time is right…" he explained to her.

"With you?"

"Sure…" he said, slightly uneasily. "But I don't think now is the time… I mean, I have a lot going on for me…"

"Like what?"

"Stuff…"

"What stuff?"

"Stuff stuff!" he answered.

"Are you keeping secrets from me?"

"No! I wouldn't!" he assured her. "I'm busy with stuff like… wrestling and erm… yeah…"

"Dawn was busy with wrestling?"

"And busy with some guy obviously…" he smirked.

"You are so not funny…" she said shaking her head. His smile fell.

"You're right, it wasn't, I'm sorry. I'm sure she's having a tough time on her own…"

"On her own?" paused Jackie. "Why would she be on her own? She has the father of the baby…"

"Uh… yeah…"

"Do you no something I don't?" she asked sceptically.

Yes I do 

"No! I don't!" he lied to her, feeling tremendously guilty and disloyal. Jackie didn't buy it, she crossed her arms angrily as she turned away from him. "Don't look at me like that…"

"There's something you're not telling me," she spat. "I will find out,"

"There's nothing for you to find out Jackie… believe me won't you?"

"You're right," she apologised with a sigh. "I've taken it to far with accusing you and everything, I'm sorry Charlie…"

"Don't be," smiled Charlie with a comforting hand wrapped around her. "I love you, I wouldn't keep secrets from you…"

"I know that and I'm sorry, let's just drop the subject," Jackie suggested as Charlie nodded in agreement.


	6. A Plan Comes Together

**A.N:** Draft lottery has not taken place in this fic. I'm skipping to the roster cuts cos there's so much more to write about. Not everyone that has been released from the WWE will be released in this fic… otherwise half my story is gone.

* * *

**-- WARNING! -- **

**---If you don't know about the roster cuts and don't want to know… don't read this.---**

**I wish the following all the best, they will ALL be missed ...  
**_Bubba Dudley, D-Von Dudley, Spike Dudley, Joy Giovanni,  
Kenzo Suzuki and Hiroko, Matt Morgan, Marty Jannetty,  
Maven, Shannon Moore, James Yun (Akio),  
David Heath (Gangrel),Kevin Fertig (Mordecai),_  
_Billy Kidman, Dawn Marie, Mark Jindrak and Charlie Haas and Jackie Gayda _

**

* * *

Chapter Four **

Nothing could be more embarrassing that what happened just now. Nothing. It was bad enough that she woke up without a clue as to where she was, but this was incomparable…. totally humiliating.

She should have asked him first except she didn't want to awaken him, she thought the loud thud that she had caused after tripping over her own foot and falling flat on her face would have woken him up, but no… it didn't.

She fell directly in front of the settee he was sprawled across and found him with his head hanging off the sofa and sucking his thumb… She found it hard to contain her laughter at first and decided not to wake him up, this way saving him the embarrassment. Who knew she'd be the one who'd get humiliated in return …

Torrie remained there clasping the translucent red polka dotted shower curtain with her mouth was still hung open, still in shock.

_What exactly did he see? It's not that bad… he's seen both my Playboys…Oh wait, that's weird… What if he's comparing me to what he saw just now and in the magazine? What if I've put on weight? Oh no… crap!_

The warm water eventually turned cold. Torrie winced at the feeling of icy droplets spitting harshly at her back. She hastily turned at the knobs and jumped out of the shower grabbing a tower and wrapping herself in it.

She sighed as soon as she embraced the warmth of the towel. She then averted her thoughts to John.

_Crap. Why does this shit always happen to me?_

* * *

_How embarrassing? He knew the doors were locked and yet he tried to force it open. Damn! Why was he so …stupid?_

John shook his head in shame as he sat on the edge of the cough, rubbing his face with his hands. He tried to get that image out of his head – although it wasn't a bad one – it was wrong…

It happened all so quickly, he didn't even know what the heck was happening until she let out an ear-splitting scream, which was an alarm to his ears, fully waking him up. His eyes finally widened to the cruel piercing sound and the sight that was before his very eyes… and what a marvellous sight it was…

He had seen her Playboy spread – both of them – but what was in the magazine was incomparable to what she looked like in person, in fact, it did her injustice. The magazine had made her look … wider but from what he saw just now her figure was picturesque, statuesque, absolutely flawless.

_Stop thinking about it._

Except he didn't want to… although he had to…

_Damn it!_

_… What should I think about? Avert my thoughts… avert them…_

He was desperate to avert those thoughts but couldn't find anything else to concentrate on and he was still dying for the bathroom, that's why he walked in on her in the first place…

"What do I do?" John asked himself, stamping his feet on the ground impatiently with both his hands covering his crotch, rocking forwards and backwards as his face cringed.

_I should probably go somewhere… go outside and take a walk… No I can't, one move and I'll piss my pants… Hurry up Torrie!_

He grunted in agony as he tried hard to focus on something else, biting his lip. He just wish she'd get out of the toilet.

_Maybe she's too shocked to even come out… it'd be really embarrassing… Maybe I should leave…_

With that thought in mind, John managed to stand up, stabilise himself before charging for the door, his legs moving awkwardly, his walking similar to a penguins way of walking…

The door slammed behind him as he headed for the lobby to use one of the toilets there. He entered the empty elevator and saw himself in the mirror. He couldn't go down there. He wasn't dressed decently, there wasn't a cap in sight that he could wear to hide the disaster that was his hair. He wore a vest and his shorts… very sleazy looking and if he went down like that he would ruin his reputation for good, seeing as he ran around last night with an unconscious woman in his arms…

"I have to go back…" John muttered to himself unwillingly. He spun around and ran back before the doors could close on him, heading back for the room, he rung the doorbell numerously.

He wondered what Torrie would think but he didn't care… he was sure his bladder was about to erupt...

* * *

_"Ring"_

_Who the heck would be at the door? And why can't John get it?_

_"Ring! Ring! Ring!"_

"Hang on!" she yelled as she finally moved after standing in the same spot for over ten minutes, wrapped in a towel, her hair almost dry as all the water had already dripped and formed a pool on the floor. She quickly brushed her hair with her hands before exiting the bathroom to answer the door. She didn't even think of asking who it was but simply opened the door to find John wincing in distress with his hands shoved down his shorts.

_Oh my…_

She didn't even know what to say but she knew from his facial expression that he needed the toilet – desperately. She hastily moved out of the way as John leapt for the toilet, kicking the door shut behind him. Torrie closed the door and giggled when she heard John breathe a sigh of relief. This was a really 'strange' to say the least, way for the day to start, not to mention embarrassing of course.

* * *

Mark Jindrak was sat in the back seat of his friend Eddie Guerrero's rented car. Eddie and Rey Mysterio shared a laugh as they were talking about how ridiculous their storyline was. 

_At least they had a storyline…_

Mark would have laughed if he had heard the joke or whatever it was they said, except he was far too concentrated, fixated…worried. Two words.

Roster cuts.

They had the right to laugh, they would find life so funny, enjoyable too. They had job security and job satisfaction – the money was pouring in and they were two of the top Smackdown stars, there was no way they'd get released.

_WWE want ratings_

Mark Jindrak could get that for you … if you gave him a chance… So far he hasn't had a decent storyline except for being in that pathetic faction led by Kurt Angle. Now Luther Reigns was gone, leaving Mark without a storyline. What the hell was this?

"Mark you ok?" Rey turned back to ask. Mark's attention averted to his friend's face.

"Yeah Oscar, I'm fine…" he lied. Eddie too looked back, noticing a slight emptiness in Mark's facial expression.

"You sure? You don't look it…"

_"Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!"_

"Eddie watch it man! Keep your eyes on the road!" Rey scolded.

"Sorry holmes!" Eddie apologised.

"You could've gotten us killed!" Rey added in hysterics.

_That wouldn't be so bad … would it?_

He was jealous too - jealous of Randy Orton. Now friends aren't meant to envy each other, but simply wish each other the best and be supportive of one another. Mark could not recall a single time Randy had been supportive… In fact Randy laughed when Mark had been drafted from RAW to Smackdown last year and just now at breakfast he had teased Mark about not having a girlfriend…

_Screw him._

Just then Mark felt his pocket vibrate, he pulled out his phone to see what it was.

_1 Message Received_

He viewed the message. His face fell as fist punched the seat in frustration.

_Hey man… I just got some news from Vince… I've been cut. Thanks for all the good times buddy. Take care. Maven._

* * *

"Sign right here!" Carlito demanded. Kenzo Suzuki and Shannon Moore looked puzzled. Carlito was pointing to a scrap piece of paper attached to a clipboard with short paragraphs on it in a miniscule font size. 

"What is this?" questioned Shannon.

"Our ticket to stardom!" Carlito smirked.

"Can I sign?" asked Hiroko politely, appearing from nowhere.

"Why not?" shrugged Carlito in high spirits. "I can see it now guys! We'll be superstars, the most talked about, the most publicised superstars there ever was!"

"Ok…" chuckled Shannon at Carlito's lame idea as he passed the clipboard over to Kenzo.

"Hey Shannon! You have to sign! Hurry up and sign Kenzo!" Carlito urged desperately.

"I have to know what I'm signing don't I?" Kenzo argued, speaking in fluent English.

"Since when was your English so good?"

"Just because I'm Japanese doesn't mean I can't speak English…" Kenzo sighed rolling his eyes. His storyline, however, begged to differ…

"My English is good too!" piped a cheery Hiroko.

"I'll bet…" Carlito replied, not really interested, just focusing on Kenzo, wanting him to sign.

"What!" shrieked Kenzo, examining the paper closely. "_The following who have signed this agreement have agreed to depart World Wrestling Entertainment if the previous set of rules have not been tolerated_"

"WHAT!" yelped Shannon and Hiroko looking up at Carlito who cringed.

"Are you selling our souls?" asked Hiroko.

"NO! It's a petition…" Carlito explained before he was drowned out by the angered voices of Shannon and Hiroko.

"_If the rules have not been met, the following who have signed this agreement have agreed to take action e.g. riots, interfering with matches, not showing up etc_." Kenzo read. "What makes you think that they give a damn about us?"

"That's why the majority have to sign!" Carlito explained.

"But the ones Vince cares about have it good already… they don't need to sign…heck they couldn't care less about the guys like us…" Shannon added.

"Unless we trick people into signing…" Carlito smirked mischievously. The other three exchanged nervous glances.

"Isn't that illegal?" asked Hiroko.

"I don't care…" Carlito sighed. "Look, I'm doing this for us! It's not as if we have no potential… the Smackdown writers don't give us a chance to prove that we are talented! They misuse us! I can't tolerate with that! All the petition asks for is a chance to voice our opinion and more of a say in what kind of storyline we would like and how we'd like our character to be portrayed…"

"That's not bad, I guess…" shrugged Kenzo, finally seeing what Carlito was seeing.

"So does that mean you'll sign?" smiled Carlito. They all smiled before replying.

"Why not?"

* * *

**A/N**: Guys, tell me whether it's worth carrying on, a lot of the characters in this story have been released. What do you think? 


	7. A Night To Remember

**A/N: **It was Torrie's 30th Birthday yesterday (27th July). Weee. I wanted to update yesterday but this crappy laptop I'm using died on me... Doh! Please read and review. Thanks!

**

* * *

**

Oh, so it was her anniversary... That would explain why she was so eager to see Peter this morning and that would also explain why there were all dressed up and hanging out in a nightclub although they had to leave early the next morning.

"What an idiot am I..." sighed John. He saw her this morning and yet he failed to congratulate her. It was nice of Joy to have thrown a party for Torrie, but she didn't look as if she was in the mood... She was probably missing poor Peter who was in hospital.

"What's up John?" Paul Wight asked worriedly as he gulped down his drink in no time, his large hand almost crushing the shot glass he held.

"Nothing Show," John replied, he was used to calling Paul 'Big Show'.

"Why do you look so tense?" he asked some more.

"I'm not," John lied, his eyes fixated on the table across his where Torrie sat, crowded by her girl pals, joking, laughing, chit-chatting and whatnot. He noticed how she was forcing herself to smile and enjoy the party her friends had so thoughtfully thrown, although Peter was there, there was something else that caused her sadness.

John would have gone over there, but she was surrounded by the girls of Smackdown and some from RAW that should've left by this morning… It would be too awkward for him to loiter around there, not that he had anything to say of course. Today was miserable and filled with silence, from the bathroom incident this morning to the time he drove Torrie to and from the hospital, he could've sworn her heard little sobs in the car on the journey back. He didn't dare to ask why, he hated seeing women cry. It always caused a lump and a sudden dryness in his throat, knots would suddenly appear in his stomach and his heart would seize and burn. Surely not a manly thing…

Stacy Keibler and Joy Giovanni were attempting to drag Torrie on to the dance floor. Torrie shook her head, clearly not wanting to, but the girls eventually managed to get her to leave her seat in the V.I.P room.

John approached the balcony that towered over the entire club, there he saw the girls dancing with a few guys, Torrie was nowhere to be seen. He then spotted her by the bar, chugging down a shot of Vodka, seeing by the numbers of empty shot glasses, this was her fifth shot. The neon blue lights shining on her as her silver sequined mini-dress glittered in the darkness.

_Gorgeous. _

"You're not supposed to think that…" he muttered under his breathe. But he couldn't deny how lovely she looked tonight. She always looked great, but tonight was different. She looked even better than she did this morning in the toilet when she was…

"John!" yelled a voice as a hand slapped his back. John spun around to see who had startled him, it was Randy Orton.

"Man, where were you this morning?" he asked. "Me and Mark were waiting for you down at the café… what happened?"

"Oh I overslept…" John lied as he concentrated on Torrie.

"I called you this morning but someone else picked up… A woman?"

"I don't think so, you must've had the wrong number…"

"Yeah probably…" replied Randy, wondering what John was staring at so intently… and then he spotted her. "So what happened between you and Torrie last night then?" John turned around spotting a cheeky look on Randy's annoyingly cocky face.

"Nothing, I took her to her room…" he lied.

"Are you sure?" Randy nudged. "It looked quite strange, the way you were handling her. Didn't really give off a good impression…"

"Randy, I don't need your shit right now, ok?" John spat. Randy backed off with a shrug.

"Asshole…" muttered under his breath, his hands stuffed in his pockets, leaving John to stare away. John watched Randy disappear into the crowds and when he turned back, Torrie was gone. He scanned the crowd on the dance floor intensely, it seemed to be more crowded than last time, only because Torrie was there…

He saw her, surrounded by sex-starved savages, she had jerks bumping and grinding against her from every angle, their filthy hands roaming freely, and groping every part of her body… she didn't seem to mind though, actually, she wasn't even aware of this… She was most certainly drunk, she couldn't even stand upright, she fell every few seconds and the guys pushed and shoved her as they liked. She laughed rowdily as John's blood boiled just from watching her afar. He clenched his fists in resentment, his eyes targeting on this guy who thought he could take her home. He whispered something into her ear, which she giggled to. John didn't even need to get down there to start up something, the guys were already throwing punches at the loser as Torrie drunkenly crawled on the floor before another ass clown picked her up and literally carried him over her shoulder and attempted to leave like that. Stacy was too caught up in Randy to notice her best friend being 'abducted', Joy, Michelle and Melina screamed as they saw the guy take Torrie away… as if that helped…

"Here we go…" John muttered as he raced downstairs and blocked the entrance before the guy could even reach there, he fought off other men with a punch which sent them flying whilst Torrie dozed off…

"Where do you think your going?" asked John as he gave this idiot a death glare.

"None of your business," he spat, brushing past John. This guy was about the size of Batista, but fatter, slightly shorter, much more hairier and classless. John wasn't afraid though. He quickly and skillfully pulled Torrie from the guy's clasp and lay her aside before throwing a punch at the back of the guy's head before he could even turn around to see what had happened. A simple jab to the back had already knocked him to another dimension, he dizzily spun around before receiving another one in the eye. He was out.

_Thud. _

His fall created a loud sound and caused people to look over and see what happened. The horny bastards saw what John had done and backed off cowardly. He picked up Torrie and left for the car park. He hurried to his car with Torrie asleep and in his arms once again, he sped behind the building and leaned her against the wall as he rummaged his pockets for his keys.

"I miss him…" she sobbed. John paused as he turned to her, she was crying. "He's gone…"

"What? Who's gone?" he asked, kneeling on the ground, in front of her, she then leapt forward and embraced him tightly.

"Peter," she sobbed.

"He's still here Torr," John assured her, though he was slightly confused. What did she mean by gone?

"He's been r-released…" she choked, now sobbing even harder.

"I'm sorry," John apologized as he tightened the hug.

"Don't be," she laughed loudly, breaking the hug before falling on to the pavement. "You saved me! That was funnnn!"

She was _so_ drunk.

"Get up," he said, helping her up. She slowly rose before throwing herself onto him and pecking him on the lips.

* * *

Mark arrived late, he was held up by a distraught Maven, complaining about the WWE. He only wished to greet Torrie and then leave. 

He entered the club, some fat loser was unconscious on the floor as security tried to get him out. Mark shook his head as he looked at the dance floor for anyone he knew. Randy stood out the most as he was half a head taller than most guys and he was the only idiot who went clubbing in an Armani suit.

_Idiot_.

Mark slowly approached Randy who seemed to be dancing with someone, Trish probably. As he brushed past people he had girls pinch him in places, aching for some loving, but Mark was in no mood, nor did he have any time for it. He was desperate for a good night sleep more than a woman, the woman he had wanted was married after all and some say she was getting friendly with John Cena…

"Randy..." called out Mark as he tapped his shoulder, Randy turned around breaking the kiss he had shared with someone… it wasn't Trish though, it was Stacy…

"Man what the hell?" Randy shrieked, shoving Mark off. "I'm a little busy!"

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" reminded Mark.

"Screw you man!" cursed Randy as he grabbed Mark by the scruff of his collar, his breath stank of alcohol, Mark cringed. "Mind your own business…" He pushed Mark to the floor as everyone gasped. Mark sprang back up instantly, straightened his shirt and left. He wanted to hit Randy so hard, but he didn't want to embarrass Randy in front of all these people, to save him some face. Mark had class and he knew how to get at Randy, attacking someone physically is not always the most painful alternative, Mark had something in mind that would cripple Randy, demoralize and ruin him.

"So this is the end of our friendship…" Mark smirked as he left the club. Randy was going to be sorry.

* * *

It was the longest three minutes ever. It time stood still as John and Torrie were engaged in a lip lock and he was thankful for it. Having a guilty conscience, John broke apart, knowing it was wrong but he couldn't explain the bliss that he was in. Having been so close to her like that made his entire body tremble and fill with goose bumps, the scent of her alluring perfume just tantalizing his nostrils, the sting that she left on his lips wanted to make him crumble to his knees and the stare she was giving him made him want to smother her with kisses… he didn't have to because she was already doing so. 

She nibbled gentle on his neck, trailing upwards, working her way slowly to his lips before planting the kiss of death. John shut his eyes as he allowed her to torment him with this heaven. He knew he was going to be guilt-ridden the next day, but he didn't have enough will power to stop her. Then he felt her hands creep up his back, bringing forward her arms to wrap around his neck. She brought him closer to her, her irresistible lips drawing closer to his.

_Stop before it's too late. _

It was already too late, she suffocated him with a powerful kiss and by that time, John was already defenseless, he just savored the moment and returned the kiss with equally as much passion. The two broke apart in unison, both trying to catch their breaths.

John could barely regain himself. He could've sworn Torrie had said something but the rapid pounding of his heart drowned out all other sounds. He was still speechless though delighted, he scratched at the back of his neck uneasily before casting glance over at Torrie. She approached him.

_No, not again… _

As much as he wanted it, he didn't want to do something he'd regret or that she would hate him for. If he ever did take advantage of her, Peter would come running after him with a meat cleaver broken hip or not! Then, she collapsed onto him, her head resting on his shoulder as John clung to her with his life. She was out.

What a way to end the night, he was sort of glad that she had passed out without him having to push her away and rejecting her kisses and most probably hurting her feelings, although he would probably have to hang himself for declining a kiss from Torrie Wilson. He helped her into the car and fastened her seatbelt before pulling one of his sweaters from the back and wrapping it around her. He climbed into the seat of his car with a grin.

_What a night._

What a night it was indeed…


End file.
